Panic
by CarsCars2Fanatic
Summary: It seems like a normal day for Foxy, until Lightning comes to her, babbling about helping someone. She goes with him, but quickly learns why none of the others could help. She's the only one who can figure out what's wrong. As she gets to work, she soon finds another in need of help. Kplus for Foxy's stress-induced swearing. XD Don't own any of the cars in this story.


"**_FOXY!_**"

The human in question was tending to the tractors, tossing all of her old apple cores in to them when she heard the shout. As soon as she heard it, she could tell that something was wrong. Very wrong.

She darted out of the field to find Lightning speeding towards her at top speed.

"Hurry-Need you-Help!"

"Lightning, stop babbling and let's go!" She leaped onto his trunk and hung on tight, feeling him spin his back tires as he shot off towards town.

They got there in record time, and she leapt off his trunk, wading through the cluster of the others. When she got to the center of the group, her jaw dropped and her eyes widened. Not for long, because she began shouting out commands. "**Back! All of you, now!** Sarge! Go get me jumper cables! And be quick about it!"

He was gone in an instant, and back just as fast, carrying the cables on his hood.

She took them off, and popped the old Hornet's hood, quickly attaching the cables to the proper places. "Open." She shot the words towards the Army Jeep, who rolled back in surprise.

"You're insane!"

She whirled around, looking absolutely furious. "Dammit Sarge, _just do it!_"

There was a thunk, then the Jeep's hood was thrown open. "Hey, watch it!" He snapped, and she completely ignored him, attaching the cables to their proper positions on his battery.

"Now."

He revved his engine once, and Foxy glanced back at the Hornet.

"Again."

He complied, and this time, Foxy heard a faint moan. "Mater, take him to the clinic. Now. But go slow. I'm going to need Sarge to stay connected for this to work."

The Army Jeep gave her a glare, the tow truck gave her a nod, too frightened to speak. He carted the Hornet over to the clinic, and Foxy ran after them, entering directly after. She dismissed Mater, who looked like he had just seen a ghost, and began hooking the Hornet up to his own machines, practice giving her the utmost precision. "Sarge, I'm raising it. I need you to tell me when there's no slack on the cables."

He gave her a curt nod, obviously not too thrilled about the situation he was in.

She began raising the lift, and was able to get it up about two feet before he stopped her. "That'll have to do." She got a crawler, and began working harder then she ever had before.

* * *

The hours ticked by, but still she didn't stop. She didn't have an answer, and she wasn't going to quit until she had one. Why had this happened? What had caused this? There was another faint moan, and Foxy set her free hand on the Hornet's fender, still digging around and trying to figure out what had happened. "There!" She drew back suddenly, her right hand covered in grease, her left covered in oil. "What does this look like to you?!" She wiped the oil on her hand across a piece of white cardboard box, and showed it to Sarge.

His expression instantly twisted, and he shook his hood.

"Exactly. Very not good. At all. It's something with the camshaft. It's getting in the oil, most likely because it's grinding somewhere." She continued working on the Hornet's engine, and presently she sighed with exasperation. "Ughh, it is the camshaft. Or what's left of it. It's nearly ground to bits! Where can we get another one, Sarge?"

He shrugged, and she waved a hand at him indignantly.

"I'll go dig some more. Call me if anything changes."

He nodded, and she was off, digging through whatever she could find, looking for a camshaft. "Yes! He's got one in here!"

"_Foxy!_"

She slid back into the room and set to work instantly, seeing that the Hornet was beginning to go downhill again. "**No!** Stay with me!" She fought to keep the Hornet alive again, wrenching the part into the engine quickly and correctly.

Once that was finished, she drained the oil from the engine, and ran new oil through it, her first two fingers on each hand digging into her temples anxiously, her hands shaking as she waited.

Sarge watched her almost curiously, thinking that this was a side she had never shown before.

Her grease-and-oil-stained fingers left marks at her temples, but she didn't even seem to notice. She threw her hair up into a bun, tossed off her sweatshirt blindly, tied the loose bottom of her shirt up at her back with an extra hair tie, then pushed up the sleeves of her gray long-sleeved shirt to her elbows. She began digging around in the Hornet's engine once more, trying to find more problems.

The Hornet moaned again, this time not as faintly, and Foxy looked over at Sarge briefly before returning to the engine. She dug out a busted spark plug, and a worn piston, replacing each quickly, knowing that time was essential.

"Wha?"

"You stay _right_ where you are, do you hear me?"

Sarge blinked in surprise at Foxy's commanding tone. Where had she ever gotten an extremely serious side from? And the ability to use it when she was nearly halfway in an engine?

Foxy didn't let on that she was panicking and stressed, at least not more then gaining authority and snapping at Sarge. She didn't seem to notice how late it was, just continued working.

To her shock, and Sarge's as well, there was a faint meowing coming from within the engine. She began searching with a hand, trying to locate the meowing, and heard a growl from behind her.

"Foxy, this isn't the time for jokes."

"It's not me, Sarge!" She snapped back at him, but continued digging. "A-ha!" She began pulling gently, and to Sarge's horror, she unearthed a small kitten that was mewing pitifully. Foxy's jaw dropped, as did Sarge's bumper. "Sarge, hold this for a little, would you? I need to see if he's got any more kittens living in here." She passed him the little feline, and he held it gently in a tire.

* * *

When she had triple-checked all the wires, hoses, connections and liquids in the Hornet's engine and was satisfied that there were also no kittens living anywhere, she hauled herself out and ran the back of a hand across her forehead, smearing a mixture of grease and oil across it.

She was covered in a mixture of fluids from the waist up, and there was even some on her jeans from where she had wiped her hands. Her bangs had come loose and flopped limply down over the sides of her face, the stress making them lifeless. The rest of her hair was beginning to come down from the hasty bun she had put it in, little wisps here and there. She looked over at Sarge, and he could see that she was exhausted. "Okay. I'm going to unhook you first. Don't leave, because I'm not sure if this is going to work right away."

Sarge nodded, still holding the kitten in a tire, and Foxy unhooked the cables from his battery, turning towards the Hornet anxiously, chewing on her lip. There was a sputtering, then a screeching roar as it fired up. It sounded like an unearthly beast being slaughtered. Foxy and Sarge cringed, but Foxy recovered quickly. Thankfully, the engine was running, although it sounded horrible.

Once she was sure that it wouldn't cut out, she unhooked the jumper cables from the battery, and closed his hood gently, Sarge's hood already closed.

The Hornet moaned, and blue eyes blinked open slowly.

Foxy sighed with relief, then sank to her knees, which had been shaking along with her hands.

Sarge rolled forwards and nudged her gently, setting the kitten on his hood. "Good work, soldier."

"S-Sarge, could you-"

"Affirmative." Came his quiet reply, then he was gone. Not for long, however, as he rolled through the doors a few minutes later with a can of oil in one tire, and a cup on his hood. He passed the cup to her first, and she took it, her hands shaking so badly she was afraid she might spill whatever was in it. Next he handed her the can of oil, and that she set in front of the Hornet. Lastly, he handed her the bedraggled ball of fur, its meowing small and weak. After watching to make sure she was going to be all right, he left the clinic, also leaving Foxy and the Hornet behind.

"Foxy?"

"You scared the living hell out of all of us." She replied quietly, her voice shaking slightly.

"Who-?"

"I did it. The camrod was shot in your engine, along with a cylinder and a spark plug. Plus, you had a little stowaway riding with you. I'm going to more then likely have to play veterinarian later, but at least he's out. And still alive. " Her voice shook even worse then before, as did her hands. She set the cup down, afraid that she would spill it and held the kitten up to show him.

His bumper dropped, listening to its pathetic mewing.

She closed her eyes tightly and began shaking her head, slowly. "Doc, I-I was petrified, terrified, scared out of my freakin' mind. I-I thought that you-" She couldn't continue, and placed her hands up over her face, setting the kitten in her lap, forgetting that she was covered in grease and oil, among other things.

"Ain't too often that the doctor becomes the patient then, I'm gonna guess?"

Her shaking didn't cease, and she peeked through her fingers before dragging them downwards, leaving dark streaks. "Not because of almost-death, no."

He nodded his hood gently, gesturing for her to come over. She rose shakily, and walked over to his fender, placing the kitten in her sweatshirt for the moment. The second she stopped, her knees gave out again and she was slumped close to his wheel.

He put the wheel around her shoulders and hugged her close to his fender. "Ya did a good job, Foxy. Not even my racin' team was that quick."

She could do nothing but quiver and lean against his fender gently, the shock of the entire afternoon wearing her down quickly.

"What's in the cup?"

"I-I dunno. I never looked."

"I think ya might wanna do that."

She nodded soundlessly and rose to her feet again just as shakily as before, and made her way over to the cup. Inside she found black coffee, still steaming gently. She took a tentative, shaky sip, and it was as though someone had hit a button inside of her brain, because she relaxed instantly. Her entire form sagged, and she took another sip.

She moved the can of oil closer to Doc, and sat down at his side, the cup of coffee gripped tightly in her grease-and-oil-stained hands.

He glanced over at her, and chuckled quietly.

"What's so funny?"

"Ya look like ya tried to paint yourself."

"I do?"

"Yep. Take a look." He angled his sideview mirror her way, and when she saw her face, her eyes widened.

There was a large blotch of black underneath her bangs, a solid smudge, then there were ten streaks going down her face. There was also numerous splatters of the mixture all over her face, most noticeably the one that covered her right eye, making her look like a dalmatian. She looked down at her clothes and her hands, and felt at her hair.

"Don't do that, you'll get it everywhere. There should be a bottle of stuff over on the counter to get rid of it."

"My god, I look like a hobo…" She murmured, and Doc chuckled quietly. She stood up and found the bottle, and began squirting a little on her hands. She scrubbed them together furiously for a good ten minutes before she gave up on getting the deep stains out. She still had it on each of her fingertips and in the creases of her hands, but she was satisfied for the moment. That settled, she resumed her place at Doc's side. "There. Somewhat clean."

"'Somewhat' is right. You've still got it everywhere."

She looked up at him from underneath her bangs, her dark green eyes flooded with happy exhaustion, the small and slightly-crooked smile on her face radiating that same happy exhaustion, the picture of hard work made complete by the lines running down her face and the smudge across her forehead. The splotch over her eye was darker then the rest, and was presumably grease instead of oil. She looked down at the little kitten, then back up to Doc. "You wanna keep him?"

"Don't see why not." He chuckled, shaking his hood gently. "Go on, go get cleaned up. I'll be fine for now."

She nodded, then rose from the floor, heading for the doors across the room, carrying her coffee and the kitten with her. She exited them, but whistled sharply in a short, shrill blast.

Lightning shot over to her side, knowing that she only whistled when she was in a panic. He appeared at her side in seconds, and his eyes widened when he saw her.

"I'll need you to stay while I go get cleaned up. We-We don't want anything going missing from the-" Her eyes fell to her feet, and she couldn't go on. She had decided that she was going to pull a prank on Lightning, and quite possibly the others, as well.

His entire form sagged, and he looked up at her mournfully. "You tried your best, Foxy, but I-" He paused, took a deep breath, then continued. "-I guess you can't save everyone from dying."

She looked up at him, an ace at manipulating the expressions others saw compared to how she actually felt. She forced herself to think of her father's death, and her expression instantly went from 'ashamed of not fixing the problem' to 'getting one's heart ripped out'. She whirled around on her heel without another word, and headed towards the waterfall, to wash everything off.

* * *

She returned a few hours later, the marks faded but still visible, and laughed when Lightning glared at her from the waiting room.

"You're evil, Foxy. You know that?"

"I didn't want you running me over to get inside the clinic, or to not have that element of surprise."

"I'll admit, I was really relieved when you said that he was, but I went in and he wasn't."

"See? Although for a few frightening seconds… he almost was…" She gulped, and his hood instantly drooped towards the floor. "I was… horrified, I-I thought…" Her expression instantly became fearful, and Lightning nudged her.

"We all were, Foxy."

Her shoulders drooped wearily, and Lightning nudged her. Suddenly, as though sensing her responsibility, she straightened, taking her hair out of the messy bun, or what was left of it. She fixed it quickly, the yellow ends poking out every which way at the top, and gave him a look. "Thanks, Lightning. But, since I am-"

"I got it. I'm leaving."

"You-You're not even gonna let me finish? C'mon, I had a whole smart-sounding speech and everything!"

He just grinned and left the waiting room, making her sigh. She turned and went in search of her sweatshirt and a few blankets, going back to the lift. She hit the pedal to lower it with her foot, her hands full of her bounty, the kitten snuggled up in her pocket, sound asleep.

Once the lift had touched the ground, Doc went to roll off.

"Ah ah." Foxy moved to stand in his path, giving him a stern look. "You're staying there."

"Foxy, I'm-"

"Don't you _even dare_ say what you were about to. On the lift, otherwise I'll show you how well I can knot a blanket." Her eyes threw sparks, and her lips pressed into a thin line.

The two stared at one another for a while, then he sighed. He settled lower onto the lift, and she smirked. "Good." She tossed a blanket over his roof, and spent the next fifteen minutes making sure that both sides were even.

Once she was satisfied, she got to work seeing what was the matter with the little kitten. She discovered that he was thin, and a little dehydrated, but otherwise fine. She set him in her pocket and headed out to the waiting room to get one of the numerous magazines Doc had setting on a table. She came padding back into the room carrying one, and settled down in a corner, draping her sweatshirt across her knees, which she had curled up and leaning against the wall. She set the kitten in her lap, and began petting it absentmindedly.

The entire time Doc was watching her in silent amusement. "The funniest little things bother ya, don't they?"

"Hmm?" She looked up, her head tilted, confusion settling in her eyes. "Whattya mean?" She asked, and he rocked from side to side gently.

"The blanket. It took ya how long to make sure that it was even?"

"Well, that was-That was…" She continued babbling softly, trying to formulate an answer.

Doc just chuckled, seeing that he was right.

She sighed and the exhausted look came into her eyes again as she arched an eyebrow. "You just had to ask. You caught me." Her eyes rolled once, and she returned to the magazine. "You know, not everyone notices the little quirks, the little times when I have to have something be perfect, or look a certain way, or be a certain color, whatever. Everyone just sees all the bigger, more bizarre stuff I do, and they just assume that I sleep with the blankets diagonally, or that I hang from the ceiling, or whatever."

Doc said nothing, just watched her with a slight smile.

"They just don't seem to see that sleeping in the basement for fun is what I've done. They just focus on my collar, or my hair, and they just see a... strange person. Nobody realizes that I've got little tidbits, little chunks, that make me somewhat normal, like putting everything straight when it's not." She turned a page in the magazine, but she wasn't really reading through it anymore, nor petting the kitten.

"You've slept in a basement?"

"For one whole summer in a blanket fort." She looked over the magazine at him, the slightest trace of a smile in her eyes.

He chuckled quietly, then sighed. "I remember doin' somethin' like that, 'cept it was in a treehouse."

"You had a treehouse?" That had captured her attention, and she set the magazine down, her eyes wide with wonder.

"Yep. Even remember the one weekend I shot water balloons at anyone who woulda come close enough."

Foxy laughed quietly. "I've had plenty of water balloon fights, just never got ambushed from a treehouse. I remember the one time we had a trampoline set up in our backyard. I stayed on for hours, pretending to be talking to mission control about the moon landing."

Doc chuckled at that, and Foxy shook her head, grinning. "I was absolutely insane when I was a kid, that much is for sure."

"I can picture it." Doc replied, and she grinned.

"That's not the worst of it. We'd play hide and seek behind our bar all the time in the den, or we'd sit there and color for a good three hours while ordering pretend drinks from our dad, 'the bartender'. Then, he'd usually have the football game on if it was a Sunday, so I'd always swivel in the chair, 'cause they were the ones that spun, then I'd watch the game for a little, then I'd turn back to him and think I was discussing the game. Of course, I was probably about three, so I had no idea what I was talking about. Probably how the guy in the green shirt had the ball. Of course, they _all_ wore green. They were on the same team."

Doc chuckled, and Foxy was laughing to herself as the memory flooded over her. "Or, there was the time we were ripping the bar out, so the couches and stuff had to get moved down into the basement. My brother and I had a field day with those. We used them as a hideout, stacked the cushions on top of the openings, and just sat inside our little fort and talked. One of us went to get out, and neither one noticed that our dad was working on the wall for the den, and the bottom corner of it was the top corner of the wall for the basement, so he was able to look down at us. So he must've been watching us as we scrambled around on these things, and all of a sudden, we hear this really deep voice, '**I see you down there!**'. We both screamed and ran to the fort, not noticing that he was watching the entire thing. Or that he was laughing."

The two shared a quiet laugh, and continued exchanging stories about all the crazy things they had done when they were younger. As the hours passed by, Foxy glanced up at the clock, only to find that it was nearly eleven at night. "I'm staying here to make sure you don't leave ten minutes after I do." She replied, a slightly fierce expression coming into her eyes.

The two had gotten around to discussing what she would do for sleeping, and she had responded with, "I can lose a few nights of sleep to make sure nothing happens." She had noticed the entire time that Doc was watching her carefully.

She went back to her magazine and the kitten, not letting on that she could see over the top of the magazine. She watched, keeping her eyes on the page, as Doc began inching off the lift and slowly rolling towards the clinic doors. "'**EY!**" She bellowed when he was far enough away from the lift. "Just where do you think you're going?!"

"I'm goin' outside, Foxy, and ya can't stop me."

"Oh really?!" She speedwalked to the doors of the clinic, and called loudly for Mater, her eyes throwing sparks.

* * *

The two were in the middle of a glaring match when Mater rolled up, looking from one to the other worriedly.

Foxy looked furious, her lips thinned down to mere lines and her eyes narrowed dangerously.

Doc's glare was just as intense, and Mater's tow hook lowered, almost like a dog's tail.

Foxy's tail was whipping from side to side angrily, and her ears were back, lying nearly parallel to her hair.

Doc sighed and reversed slowly back to the lift, and Foxy's expression lessened. "Sorry, Mater. I thought he was going to try something."

"S'allright, Foxy." He nudged her, then left after bidding her a good night.

"Oh, Mater, wait."

He froze in the middle of the road, and Foxy smiled as she began whispering her plan to him. "Got that?" She asked after a few minutes of whispering, and he nodded, a grin forming on his bumper. "Okay, wait for me to get inside, then start." He nodded once, and she slipped inside the doors. "Oh, one more thing. Go get his garage's door, too."

Mater nodded once more, and Foxy walked back into the room to find Doc sulking on the lift.

"You are not leaving here until I'm sure that nothing's going to happen." She told him firmly, and once more she was sent a glare.

"You're gonna lock me in my own clinic?!"

"That's exactly what I'm going to do. With me in here too. And with Gavin." She shot back, sliding down the far wall to sit on the floor, gathering the kitten, whom she had named Gavin, into her arms. "Now, I've got enough coffee in me to keep me awake for the night, and for tomorrow too. If you'd like to try anything, I will not hesitate to either."

He grumbled, sending her a hooded glare.

"It's for your own good, so deal with it."

He snorted, then settled lower on the lift, figuring that with Foxy around, he'd be lucky to get out by next month.

Foxy draped her sweatshirt across her knees again, placing Gavin inside of it. She continued reading the magazine, glancing up from time to time to make sure that he was still on the lift.

After about an hour, she glanced up to find him sleeping. Finding it suspicious, she continued watching him nonstop for another hour, just to make sure that he wasn't feigning sleep.

* * *

Once she was absolutely sure that he was really sleeping, she entered the waiting room, and rapped softly on the door, three separate times. "Clear." She hissed through the crack in the door, and heard the sounds of something being moved. "Quiet now, guys."

The door was nudged gently from the outside, making it move about an inch. That was the signal that the doorway was clear from the outside, and that she could swing it open. She did, and was passed a coffee. "Thanks Mack, Mater."

The two nodded, and Foxy looked at the large wall of cinder blocks the two had moved away from the door. "Is there another one in front of his garage door?"

"Yup. It's about as tall as the door, so he won't be leavin' that way." Mack replied quietly, and Foxy grinned.

"You overdid it."

"Can't be too careful."

"Right you are, Mack. Thanks again for doing all this, you guys."

"No problem, Foxy. How bad was it?"

"Sarge didn't tell anyone?"

The two shook their hoods, and Foxy sighed. "It wasn't good, to be completely honest. It was very, very not good. He had this little guy living in his engine."

Mater's entire form seemed to droop, as did Mack's, although their bumpers dropped to the ground when they saw the little kitten.

"He seems well enough to try and glare me to death, so that's a start." She replied, and Mater grinned.

"You was glarin' back at him somethin' fierce, Foxy."

"Thanks, Mater. I think I tend to turn into a bit of a female dog when I care too much."

The two trucks snickered, and Foxy shushed them, grinning. "I'm going back in. You guys get to bed, it's late."

"Yes, Mama Foxy." Mack replied with a roll of his eyes, and Foxy's jaw dropped.

"You did _not_ just call me that." She gave him a warning glare, and he sank lower to the ground, grinning sheepishly.

"I said 'You're right, Foxy.', because you're always right."

"You're darn right. Now go, before my shoe gets wedged up your tailpipe so far not even I can get it out."

Looking like a wounded puppy, he went, his hood lowered.

"I'll see you tomorrow night, Mater." She gave him a smile, then entered, carrying her oversized cup of black coffee. She sipped it as she grabbed another magazine, and crept back into the room where the lift was stationed, and where the blue Hornet was fast asleep. As she glanced his way, her expression softened into something that could only be described as a weary fondness. She slid down the wall again, and began to read, occasionally sipping at her coffee.

She never realized when she finally crashed, the cup of coffee sitting at her side, the magazine opened in her lap, her head drooping and nearly resting on her knees, the kitten sound asleep in her pocket. As soon as her head drooped, she instantly entered dream world, and what a strange dream she had in those few hours.

* * *

She bolted awake with a small gasp, only to find that nothing had changed except the time. Where it had been almost one in the morning before, it was now about five thirty, almost six. She stretched on the floor before standing up and continuing to stretch, not wanting to risk the dizzying rush that comes with standing up after sitting too long. She discovered a large cup of cold coffee at her side, and she picked it up, her sleep-deprived mind not remembering anything other then her dream.

It was full of humans, only they were the residents of Radiator Springs. It was the oddest thing in the world, seeing the cars she knew and recognized as family as humans, with the ability to run, and horse around like a human would.

What had shocked her the most was Fillmore. He was tall, maybe six feet or so. Not only that, but long, straight, shoulder-length dirty-blonde hair. That, and he was… good-looking...Tall, as thin as a fencepost, those deep brown eyes, paired with a sleeveless vest that was lying over nothing but bare, incredibly tan skin… was she falling for a figment of her imagination?! She drew back in shock, but her mind seemed to want to focus on him, and him alone.

She didn't realize that her face had assumed a dreamy look to it, and only the sound of a yawn coming from the lift made her snap back to reality. There was Doc, just waking up. She brushed some of her bangs out of her eyes with a thumb, but it just sprang right back to its original position. "Morning." She called softly, and his hood lifted.

"Mornin', Foxy." He seemed to have forgotten their little snap from the night before, and Foxy was grateful for that.

"Want anything?"

"Coffee?"

"All right." She headed for the doors, and uttered another short, sharp whistle after looking around to see who was awake.

Lightning rolled to her side at once, and she smiled. "Morning, Light. You're on guard duty while I get his coffee."

He grinned, and gave her a nudge before she headed over to Flo's.

"Any better?"

"Let's see… We got into a glaring match last night because I won't let him out until I'm sure it won't happen again anytime soon, so I'm sure that's progress. Plus getting little Gavin out helped too."

The others looked at her as if she were crazy, and she grinned, holding the kitten up to show them. They came closer to look at the little feline, Foxy petting him gently. "Ya pulled _that_ outta-"

"His engine, yes. Cats have been known to hide in engines for warmth. That's why it's particularly dangerous to have a little kitten around, besides the obvious 'running him over' dilemma."

"What about Doc?"

"Don't worry, I'm letting him out once I'm sure he's all right. I can't keep him locked up forever, that's just cruel."

Flo dropped off his coffee at Foxy's side, and she picked it up, giving Flo a smile. "Thanks, Flo."

"I'll come over with ya, hun. Just 'till the doors."

Foxy, who at first looked unsure, nodded slowly. Flo rarely left her cafe in the mornings, so what was she up to? She got her answer when Flo gave her a gentle nudge.

"You're a hero 'round here for what you did yesterday, Foxy. None of us woulda known what to do, and you just stepped in and took charge. We're glad ya knew what you were doin', hun. Otherwise…" Her normally happy expression fell, and Foxy sighed.

"You guys don't know the half of it. I was scared past death that I was going to do something wrong, that I wouldn't figure out what the problem was in time, that there would be another death that was all my fault. I wouldn't have been able to live with myself if he hadn't made it."

"None of us would've, Foxy." Flo nudged her comfortingly, and Foxy leaned into her fender with her hip, a now-familiar gesture that she was trying to comfort the car she did it to.

The two went their separate ways, Foxy setting his coffee down in front of Doc and snatching up her own. He nodded his thanks before beginning to sip at it, Foxy doing likewise.

For a while there was complete silence in the clinic, each lost in their thoughts. Abruptly, both apologized simultaneously, then began laughing softly. They tried again, with the same result. "Okay, you first."

He nodded, and apologies were exchanged, one right after the other.

"I just get so…"

"Snappy?"

"Yeah. I'll get that way if I'm freaking out over something. I could call Sarge in, and he'll tell you how much I snapped at him. I've got a feeling he'll get me back for it later…"

Doc chuckled softly, and Foxy grinned. "Ya called him Gavin?"

She looked down at the little fawn-pointed kitten, who was lying in her lap, purring softly. "Yeah. Although if you want to name him something else, it's fine. After all, he is your cat now."

"Gavin's fine." He shook his hood gently, chuckling softly at the little ball of fur.

"He looks like he's a Siamese, so be prepared. They're loud, and they love to play."

Abruptly, Gavin perked up, his dark blue eyes wide. He leapt out of Foxy's lap, and began bouncing up at a bit of dust that was floating through the air, making Foxy giggle. "See? Gavin, don't play with that, soon you'll be eating it." She gently wrapped a hand around the little kitten and pulled him backwards onto her lap. "Speaking of which, it's a mess in here. Your turn to hold your engine kitty." She set him on Doc's hood, where he instantly began pawing at the hood emblem. "That'll keep him entertained for a while. And you don't even have to do anything." She gave the Hornet a smile, and began sweeping the floor, sending dust bunnies rolling across the floor. "Gavin, no. You stay up there." She watched as the kitten absolutely ignored her, but she caught him in time.

He meowed loudly, wanting her to let go.

"No, you need to stay up there. I'll get you something later to play with." She set him on Doc's hood again, ignoring the Hornet's quiet laughter. She finished sweeping the dust bunnies out, and headed outside. "Don't let him out, otherwise you'll never see him again." She cast a wry smile towards Doc and Gavin, and he nodded. She darted over to Fillmore's, then began digging through her bag. "A-ha!" She headed back over to the clinic, and into the room with the lift. "All right, here we go. I always keep one of these for emergencies. You never know what kind of animal you're going to come across."

That said, she tossed a colorful ball with a bell inside it towards Gavin.

The little cat instantly went after it, batting it around on the floor avidly. "Look at him go." Foxy grinned, and retrieved it when it rolled underneath a counter. "There." She tossed it a foot away, and Gavin was after it again in seconds. "Hmm…" Getting an idea, she quickly swiped it from the little kitten. "Gavin, c'mere…" She jingled it teasingly, then set it on Doc's hood.

"Foxy, he's not a dog." To his surprise, he was greeted with a meow as his new kitten hopped onto his hood and began batting at the ball.

"Siamese cats are extremely smart, and can be taught a few tricks. Of course, they are still cats, so it's got to be done on _their_ time."

Doc chuckled, watching Gavin attack the ball.

He swatted at it with a front paw, and it was sent flying off Doc's hood, onto the floor. Surprisingly, he didn't go after it, and instead decided to relax, sprawling out on Doc's hood, the tip of his tiny tail waving from time to time.

Doc raised up a tire and began petting the little cat gently, smiling as Gavin rubbed against his tire, purring softly.

Foxy watched the exchange, smiling softly. '_Maybe now he won't be as stubborn, now that he's got a cat._' She instantly began giggling, and clapped her hands over her mouth in a heartbeat.

Doc looked up from Gavin, finding Foxy giggling. "What?"

"Nothing." She managed to get out, giggling and shaking her head.

"Foxy…"

"I'm not sayin' it, I'm not sayin' it." Still the laughter didn't leave her eyes, so he knew something was up.

"Foxy, you'd better say it." He warned, and she just grinned, shaking her head.

"Nope. I'm not saying it. You'll never get me to squeal. Besides, there's a reason I'm not gonna say it. It'll start something." That said, she gave him a smug grin and went back to her corner, cup of coffee in hand.

"Foxy… Would ya just say it?"

"All right fine. You're gonna get mad, but you're the one who wanted to know. I thought about how you've got a cat. And you're retired from racing."

"So you're sayin' that I'm old." He gave her an unamused look, and she shrugged.

"In my defense, that's why I wasn't saying anything."

"Gavin, get 'er."

"Cats don't attack, dogs do-OWHOW!" She squealed and leapt backwards as Gavin darted straight for her.

He meowed, looking at her angrily, then hopped back onto Doc's hood.

Doc was laughing, and petted his new little feline, looking at Foxy with an air of smugness. "Ya were sayin'?"

"He obviously thought I was going to take his ball." She replied, and that got Doc laughing again.

"Give it up, Foxy. He'll do just fine."

As if to prove his point, little Gavin hissed at her, making Doc grin.

**Here's Panic! When this started out, it was just sort of to get a feel for sad situations, and to see if I could keep it going for a while, which I apparently can't. XD Anyways, hope you guys like this one! I don't own Doc, Sarge, Lightning, or Flo, only Gavin (Who's named after Gavin Free from Roosterteeth *squee* Luv my British men! XD) and Foxy.**

**So, all that said, does anyone think I'm the devil for writing something like this? Because there may be a similar scenario in one of my song fanfics. **


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